Snip.

The sharp noise startled Kint. He swiveled, looking around for its source.

Snip.

Right by his ear this time. Kint snapped his head to the side.

Nothing.

"Who's there?" He asked, voice drifting into darkness. Echoing through a vast space.

"Shhhh."

A female voice whispered.

He spun again, swiveling on the axle of a leather backed chair.

The voice had come from behind him. He wasn’t quick enough to see.

Kint was surrounded by darkness. A single light shone from a hidden source.

A giggle rippled around him, echoing across invisible walls, encircling him. He recognized the voice.

"Nessa?"

The Inspector scoured the darkness, eyes searching for a hint of his daughter's freckled face.

Gentle hands gripped both sides of his head, directing him to face forward.

"Stay still, Papa." She giggled, voice clearer now.

She was behind him.

"You need a haircut."

Another Snip.

He felt a tingle atop his right ear as falling hair drifted past.

"Alright." Kint muttered, relaxing a bit.

Dark locks fell around his shoulders, taking his anxieties with them.

His hair was getting long.

Snip.

He remembered their fight before bed.

How she’d pushed him.

Snip. Snip.

How he’d reacted…

He felt bad about that.

Snip. Snip… Snip.

But things would be alright now.

Nessa had a way of smoothing things over.

Snip.

Even with how heated he’d had gotten, Kint was confident his daughter would forgive him.

She probably already had.

Snip. Snip. Snip. Snip.

"Hey!" Kint grumbled. "I'd like to keep at least some hair."

Another giggle.

"Hush. Papa."

"hmph." He grunted. "What's this new look you're giving me, anyway?"

"It'll be good." She assured him. "You'll see."

He grumbled again, readjusting himself on the stiff leather.

He wished he could see what she was doing.

Two more snips.

He'd had hair past his ears for at least as long as he'd been in District 13.

Snip snip snip.

He’d never cared about how he looked, but Nessa was doing a lot of cutting… Kint was starting to worry. His head was feeling… lighter.

Snip snip... snip...

Stab!

An intense pain lanced through the side of his head.

"God's above, Nessa!" He screamed. "Stop that!"

The stabbing pain continued. Expanding. Moving deeper and deeper. It grinded around his head, slowly making its way in a circle.

"Stop it, Nessa!" He yelled, reaching his hands up to stop her.

But he couldn't.

When he tried to raise his hands, he found them strapped to the arms of the chair.

The slicing and sawing continued, making its way around his skull.

He felt blood streaming from open wounds he could not see.

"Gods! Please!"

There was no response, only the pinching, slicing, and sawing across his skull.

"Nessa! Please! I'm begging you! Please stop this madness."

He raged against his hidden bonds. Struggling desperately.

Blood poured across his eyes as the persistent blade made its way to his forehead.

His vision went red.

It was on the verge of going black.

The pain was so intense.

He was going to pass out.

Then it stopped.

The sawing stopped, the pain stopped.

He felt a twist across the crown of his head. Then a peeling sound hit his ears.

Then... Finally… blessedly… he passed out.

----------------------------------------

"Papa?"

He heard a muffled voice through the darkness.

"Papa...?"

Again the sweet voice came.

Kint blinked twice, eyes fluttering open.

His vision was blurry, his mind struggled to bring the world to focus.

The pain was gone.

Thank the Prophet.

"Papa, are you okay?"

His daughter's voice came again.

He turned, feeling his head and hands had been freed.

He looked up from his chair... and there she was.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

The sweet freckled face of his daughter.

She was holding a pair of scissors in one hand, her face full of concern.

"Are you alright, Papa?" She asked, cocking her head, examining him. "You were screaming and yelling. And then you passed out. I didn't know what to do."

Kint looked in her eyes. There was a redness, a history of tears. She had been truly concerned for him.

His gaze drifted to the scissors in her hand. They were clean. No blood, no skin, no evidence of the torturous acts he'd experienced.

He looked again at his daughter, confused about what he'd just experienced, but guilty at the same time for thinking her capable of such horrors.

"I--" He began, gathering his wits. "I'm okay... I think."

His voice still shaking with the memory of pain.

He raised a hand to his head but Nessa stopped him, gently pushing the appendage back to the chair's arm.

"Not yet, Papa." She soothed.

He looked at her, confused.

She smiled, such earnest innocence was in her eyes.

He put his worries aside.

The girl nodded, skipping back behind him.

"Be careful with those Scissors, Sweetheart." Kint admonished. "They can be dangerous."

The Inspector shuddered, as he felt the phantom pain creep back around his head.

"Oh don't worry, Papa."

The voice came from behind his head.

"I'm not going to be using those anymore."

Kint's brow furrowed. There was something different about Nessa's voice. It was the same pitch... but there was a confidence to it.

The cadence was off.

"Incredible."

Her voice came again.

"So many levers... At such a young age."

Again the voice was so different. It had an upper class air to it. A refined quality.

"Nessa... Wha--" Kint shuddered.

His mouth stopped.

His whole body was frozen.

"That's enough questions."

The childish voice that was not his daughters echoed through the dark room.

Kint struggled desperately to move.

He tried to scream. To fight. But, nothing would move.

All he could manage was the twitch of finger as a drop of blood spilled across his temple from his open skull.

"I wouldn't fight too hard if I were you."

The voice warned.

"The mesh across your mind is quite extensive. If you resist too much, this late in the game, you're as likely to make yourself a dullard as anything."

Rage coursed through Kint's veins as this thing spoke in his daughter's voice. His teeth would be grinding like a mill if he weren't paralyzed.

"We'll work on that." The girl quipped. "Now. I'm going to ask you some questions, Kint. And I want truthful answers. Not like the ones you told in your stories." She admonished. "I want the whole truth. The Truth as you see it."

His head shuddered again, muscles twitching below his left eye.

He felt a drop of blood fall from his lip as it trickled from his nose.

He needed to turn his head, needed to see what was tormenting him with Nessa's voice.

"Let's start with an easy one." The girl began. "Do you believe in the Prophet?"

Kint did not answer. He would not answer, even if he could speak. He would not bow to this thing.

He felt a vibrating pulse ripple through his mind, his vision blurred.

"I believe that he existed."

The words spilled forth. He could not stop them.

"And the Brotherhood? What about them?" The child asked.

Another vibration. Kint opened his mouth. Only a hollow breath came out.

He would fight it. This thing could not control him.

Several more vibrations rocked his skull, from multiple places across his brain.

"It may have existed… once." Kint began, unable to keep the words in. "But not for long. The Apostle Families probably destroyed it in the Second Age."

"Not bad, Papa."

Tremors went through Kint's arms as his anger boiled higher.

"How about the Gods." The girl continued, uncaring. "Do you believe in them?"

"Yes." Kint admitted, this time without the mind bending vibrations.

"And what about The Shattered?"

"I don’t know…" The inspector grumbled. “I'm starting to.”

"I knew I liked you, Papa." The child smiled.

Kint's nostrils flared as heat blew through them. He could not stand how this thing said that word. 'Papa'. It was driving him mad.

"Let's go a little deeper, shall we." The thing said, "This morning, when your partner went in to do the cleansing, you did not. Why?"

Had this thing been following him?

Another vibration rippled through him when Kint did not reply.

He opened his mouth.

"I--I don't like the smell." He grunted.

"Cheeky... And true I'm sure" The girl said, he could hear the grin in her voice. "But, I want a real answer."

The Spector felt vibrations across the front of his head.

He saw blood on the floor of a small Mage Grown Government house. A body was there. Dark hair, freckled cheeks... A knife protruding from her chest.

His mouth opened of its own accord.

"B-Bad memories." He uttered.

Kint was determined to divulge as little as he could. He wasn’t sure why it mattered. But he needed to fight.

"Interesting..." The girl pondered.

Kint could hear small footsteps pacing around behind his head. He shifted his eyes to the point of pain, willing them to see farther into the periphery.

"What about this afternoon?" The childish voice inquired. "You seemed different at the Syfeeli house. More focused... Why is that?"

How closely was this thing watching him?

More vibrations.

"I-- I saw that this case could be a problem for my family. So I wanted it solved quickly."

"Did you enjoy it?"

Kint froze.

"I-- I don't understand." He replied, not needing to be forced.

"Did you enjoy it?" The thing repeated. "Solving the murder. Commanding the room. Using your powers for the first time in so long."

Another ripple in his mind.

"I--" He paused.

For some reason he felt he needed to fight these words especially hard.

More ripples, more vibrations. Vibrations to the point of pain.

His vision blurred.

"Yesss..." He spat.

The words finally jarring loose. He was breathing heavily, like he'd just sprinted a few hundred yards.

"tsk, tsk, tsk." The Girl clicked. "You are a tough one Mr. Kint. Again, let's try not to fight too hard. You still have to care for this little girl when you wake."

Kint's breathing slowed.

He could feel the blood coming down in a steady flow from his nose and eyes. But at least he had a bit more information now.

Based on the girls words, he could confirm that this was some sort of dream... So maybe it wouldn't matter how much he went through in here?

No... He felt that wasn't right.

This being's words rung true. If he pushed too hard against it, he could feel that his mind would break.

"It's okay though... just a few more questions, and i'll have what I need." Soothed the girl.

Kint heard the footsteps come closer from behind. He felt a hot breath brush past his ear as she whispered. "Did you love your wife, Inspector Kint?"

Vibrations, pain, he felt nauseous.

"I don't know..." He admitted.

The words left him like a heavy sigh. Deflating him.

"Do you love your daughter?"

"Yes." Kint snapped, jumping for the answer.

The being paused in its pacing.

"How can you be sure?” It questioned. “Have you ever felt love before? Do you know what love is? Do you even have the capacity for it?"

"H-I--" Noises escaped his throat, distressed gasps.

There were no vibrations, no ripples.

The demon's words had hit him like a ton of bricks. His mind reeled as it saw through his deepest barriers.

"Tell me, Papa..." The thing continued. "What is it that you fear most?"

Footsteps drifted out from behind him, circling to the front.

The inspector's eyes followed the girls diminutive form as it made its way to face him.

It really was the spitting image of his daughter.

That dark blue dress, freckled cheeks and nose, dark hair.

The only thing that marked her out as something foreign was that sadistic grin, and a pair of gleaming, crimson eyes.

It stood there for a moment, examining his exhausted form, hands behind her back in casual confidence.

It sighed.

"You're not ready yet... I think."

That smile turned down to a pitying frown.

"Maybe you never will be." She shook her head, pulling her hand from behind her back to reveal a set of bloody scissors. "But, apparently we need you… So, I’ll do my best."

The thing that looked like his daughter approached him, laying her free hand on his shoulder and looking him in the eyes.

"I'm going to try and help you, Kint." She intoned. "These next few days will test you in ways you're not ready for... But hopefully..."

It paused, shaking its head.

"Hopefully, when the time comes you'll be ready to do what must be done."

The girl lifted the scissors in front of his eyes, glancing at them in consternation. "You'll be ready to set her free."

She looked back at him with a white hot intensity that cleared his mind with its power.

The dark world of the dream went silent as she pulled her hand back.

"Set her free, Kint." She whispered.

The hand came down, stabbing the scissors into Kint's chest with a thud.

He gasped.

Shooting up in bed.

His breath game in heaving gulps.

He put his hand to his chest... There was nothing there. No Scissors. No wound.

His breathing slowed. Kint looked to his bedside window where the morning sunlight shone.

"Papa...?"

A child's voice spoke.

Kint's eyes shot towards his door with a fierce intensity, he reached for his knife, ready to attack.

But it was only her.

Only his beautiful daughter, standing in the doorway, cloaked in youthful innocence.

He took a deep breath, letting it out in a heavy sigh.

"Papa... Are you okay?" She asked, triggering a shadow of pain across his scalp.

"I--" He hesitated, still feeling that phantom ache.

"Yes, Sweetheart. I think so."